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Minuscule
Jet black
and yellow
and black again,
radiant orange
and red
and pink,
billowing green
and brown
and blue,
plus white.
Then dots paint across the lumpy white and ever expanding blue, over the rays of yellow;
much like a cartoon, they create dashes behind their minuscule wings,
which twist and turn
and twist and turn.
Then “buzz” appears as a bubble around their mouths;
much like a cartoon, their sounds are described not only through waves but through letters,
which twist and change
and twist and change.
Then their mouths, which are followed by bubbles of letters, smile;
much like a cartoon, some bear teeth and others simply a parabola of happiness,
which stays the same
and stays the same,
UNTIL you.
You with your sphere atop lines that sprawl out;
much like a stick figure with
two jutting from the higher portion of your figure, having hands at the tips,
two jutting from the lower portion of your figure, allowing movement,
two dots in your sphere atop lines sprawled out, aiding your sight,
weird lines uncontrolled by gravity that contort into an afro, adding to your odd appearance.
You with your purple fabric that hugs your lines,
much like a stick figure with
hangmen guessing the letters to form your words.
You with your huge toes, huge feet,
much unlike that of a stick figure, but with
a yetis shoe size.
You with your crown made of their desire,
made of daisies and weeds disguised as flowers.
Yet, you come bearing a parabola of happiness,
UNTIL him.
One of them with his jet black
and yellow
and black again, scribbled in the lines,
and his minuscule wings,
and his sound letters,
and his obedient dashes.
Collided.
Your happiness ignited to anger.
His happiness faded to infinity.
But you continued with your movement, this time
much like a giant.
STOMP, STOMP, STOMP, without any regard for loss.
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The theme of this is definetely open to interpretation, and if you have a perspective as to what you felt when reading it I would love to hear it!